


Meet me at the Shoreline

by WolfeyKitten



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Ruby & Sapphire & Emerald | Pokemon Ruby Sapphire Emerald Versions
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Backstory, Childhood Memories, M/M, Pretty much just the canon+ a bunch of stuff I made up, cute nerds, originshipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-14 17:04:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3418634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfeyKitten/pseuds/WolfeyKitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...with your rose-red youth and your rose-white boyhood, you have had passions that have made you afraid, thoughts that have filled you with terror, day-dreams and sleeping dreams whose mere memory might stain your cheek with shame -" Expansion of game/manga canon. Boyhood is a peculiar thing... it can mold minds and sway hearts, it can make friendships and it can tear them apart. Steven and Wallace's adventures through boyhood and where it leads them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Origins

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fanfic involving these two gay nerds. It follows my own concocted canon, some sort of mesh of the games and the manga, and explores Steven and Wallace as characters and their dynamic relationship. If you haven’t read the manga, have no fear: it should be easy to understand without it.  
> Also a little disclaimer: I haven’t seen the anime so don’t expect any anime-specific canon.

_“ ...with your rose-red youth and your rose-white boyhood, you have had passions that have made you afraid, thoughts that have filled you with terror, day-dreams and sleeping dreams whose mere memory might stain your cheek with shame -- "_

                                                      ― Oscar Wilde, _The Picture of Dorian Gray_

* * *

 

The young boy crouched, his hands fashioned together around his knees. He watched from the same vantage point that he had been watching from for a good half a day now, too shy to approach the similarly-aged boy at the bottom of the crater, yet too preoccupied with the scene before him to get back to work.

His name was Steven Stone, and all he really wanted to do was dig holes. But first, he wanted to be that green-haired boy’s friend.

He didn’t know what it was. Maybe he was just lonely at his home in Rustboro with his father, and this was one of his only opportunities to really make a friend. Maybe the boy’s peculiar form of training was just mesmerizing Steven. He had never seen anything quite like it in his life; the way that the pokemon twisted and turned in the water appeared to serve no strategic purpose whatsoever, but it sure did look pretty. And the boy… the way he commanded the pokemon with such confidence and grace was captivating.

As for what was keeping him glued the the higher layer of the crater, Steven could not easily pinpoint. The feeling could be equated to fear, probably, most likely. Steven was never really a social butterfly, always maintaining only a distant friend or two. Well, human friends, that is. He much preferred his Aron and his Beldum over any sort of human companionship. Of course he had explored the possibilities of a friendship with another human, someone who could speak and be spoken to in a way that his pokemon simply couldn’t, but a companion that could match his interests and tolerate his passions as well as they did was yet to be found. So what made this strange boy so much different?

It had to be the boy’s fiery, aggressive passion, burning bright as he conducted his pokemon like an opulent symphony. The flames of his elegance flickered and danced like- no, wait. Steven realized with a jolt that he had it all wrong. The boy’s beauty could not be compared to a fire at all. The movements were much more akin to the sea. Yes, the boy’s movements crashed over Steven in the way a wave does the shore, and captivated him in the same way that the light of the moon bouncing off of the waves at Mossdeep did.

Obtuse metaphors in toe, the eight-year-old Steven worked up enough courage to begin the rocky descent into the center of the crater, where the calm shore was. It was nothing like the shore in Mossdeep. In fact, Steven was pretty sure he had never seen water so placid, despite having a pokemon splashing around in it.

As he dragged himself closer and closer to the young trainer, Steven tried his hardest to quiet his footsteps. It was hard not to make noise on the rocky ground of Sootopolis, so the whole trek made him a little anxious. What if the stranger turned around and saw a scrawny blue-haired boy creeping up on him? What would he say to a native Sootopolitan with green hair? Or maybe that hair was teal, or turquoise, or even a medium-aquamarine. Steven, with his limited vocabulary, declared it to be green.

He shook the pesky thoughts; now was not the time to get hung up on details. Letting out a deep breath, Steven let the first words that came to mind spill out of his mouth alongside a puff of air.

“You remind me of the Ocean,” he started. A little forward, but truthful. The stranger turned at the sudden sound, caught completely unawares by the curious boy.

The stranger’s face was soft, kind, a young face, not unlike his own. Steven judged him to be the same age, if not just a tad older. The boy’s face brightened as he donned an excited smile.

“Uh, thanks? I really like the Ocean! I’m happy I remind you of such a great thing!” Steven smiled too. This wasn’t so bad. The pokemon in the water paused its thrashing and peeked over the sharp shoreline. Steven recognized it as a Goldeen.

“Yeah, well, I really like rocks! Do I remind you of rocks?” Steven felt the need to parry the statement with an interest of his own.

The strange boy was quick to retort confidently, his hands finding his hips and his nose finding the sky. “Yeah, well I bet you don’t like rocks as much as I like the water!” He didn’t really answer Steven’s question, not that it really mattered that much anyways.

Steven let out an indignant squeak of shock at the absurd statement. “Yeah, well-!” He struggled to come up with a retort, unable to use words to actually convey what he was thinking.

“Relax, I’m only making fun!” The boy dropped the puff from his chest and acted a little more approachable, noticing Steven’s discomfort. “What’s your name? Are you from the outside? I’ve never seen you around here before.”

Steven lightened up, glad of the change in attitude. He let out a puff of breath and remembered what his father told him about making friends. _Just be yourself, Steven._

“My name is Steven, future Hoenn League Champion and heir to Devon Corporation!” The extra stuff was all about superiority. How many other kids could say that kind of stuff? That’s right, none.

“Heir? To Devon? What’s that mean?”

“That means my daddy owns Devon, and I will too some day!” Now it was Steven’s turn to puff out his chest, all high-and-mighty.

“ _Own_ Devon? I didn’t even think that was possible!”

“Of course it is!”

“Well _my_ name is Wallace, future contest Idol of Hoenn!”

When Wallace struck a pose, his arm extending out and his other arm throwing itself behind his head, Steven had to admit that Wallace had him beat when it came to presentation. However, there was one thing Steven got caught up on, and his face contorted slightly in confusion.

“Contest Idol? What’s that?”

Wallace gasped, slapping his hands to his face in exaggerated disbelief. “You’ve never seen a contest before? An Idol is someone who’s really good, and who everyone wants to be!”

Steven cocked his head, his silver-blue hair falling in his face. “So it’s like… the champion, but of contests?”

“Pretty much, yeah. Since you’ve never seen a contest before, I’m going to show you what it’s like right now! You’re going to love it.”

Before Steven could object, (not that he wanted to, of course) Wallace twisted around with an indescribably dramatic flair. He returned to conducting his Goldeen, shouting the command to make it do a bubble beam. Of course, Steven had witnessed the prowess of a bubble beam in battle before, but it was never quite like this. This bubble beam was majestic, beautiful, captivating… nothing like the rough and toughness of a battle move. So _that_ was why Wallace was able to capture Steven’s attention. He wasn’t training for a battle, like Steven had originally thought, but training for a contest instead. He lowered himself to the ground, tired of standing, and watched Goldeen intently.

Wallace transformed the still lake into a contest hall fit for top-notch pokemon trainers, the glassy surface of the lake becoming a stage for Wallace’s Goldeen, and Steven becoming the roaring audience. He watched on as Wallace coordinated every move, and in that moment, Steven was sure that the other boy was going to the top. Every practiced movement looked natural and graceful. Every moment was a moment suspended in time. When the performance was concluded, Steven clapped as Wallace spun to face him, bowing with a smug smile plastered to his face.

“Brilliant, I loved it!” Steven shouted.

“Thanks! So far you’re my number one fan!” Wallace seemed to be a little out of breath from the excited movements he was making to control his pokemon. He plopped himself down on the ground next to Steven, a few strides away from the shore. The boy leaned back, supported himself on his arms, and cast his gaze skyward. It seemed as if the day was coming to a close, the sun just beginning to kiss the edge of the crater in which Sootopolis rested.

“If you say so,” Steven remarked, glancing sideways at his new-found friend. He enjoyed the way Wallace was elated by his simple praise.

The two were suspended in silence for only a few heartbeats. “So is Goldeen your only pokemon?”

Wallace huffed. “Yeah, but not for long. One day I’m going to catch a whole bunch! What about you, do you have any pokemon?”

Steven’s lips contorted into a proud smirk. “Of course! Check this out!” Steven shoved his hand into the pocket of his cargo shorts and withdrew two pokeballs. He tossed them into the air and from them materialized two steel-type pokemon. Aron fell to the ground with a heavy thud and Beldum remained suspended in the air, letting out a metallic cry that seemed to echo like a steelpan drum.

“Woah, you have _two_?” Wallace cried amusedly. “I’m so jealous~!”

“Hey, why don’t we have a pokemon battle!” Steven bounced at the idea of finally facing off against someone.

“You mean, like the big kids do?” Wallace almost seemed to shy away from the idea.

“Yeah, so? If they can do it, so can we.”

“Wow Steven, I don’t know about that. Two against one? It doesn’t seem fair! Besides, I’ve never been in a pokemon battle before.”

“Neither have I,” Steven stated, standing up excitedly, “This can be the first for both of us! Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you. I’ll only use Aron, and rock-types are weak to water-types.”

“How do you know that?” Wallace asked standing up as well, still a little unsure.

“I read lots of books!” Steven said proudly.

“Wow, I can hardly even read.” Wallace smiled again.

“Good thing you don’t have to read to battle me then!” Steven’s face almost hurt with the force of his grin. His very first pokemon battle! With, hopefully, his very first real human friend.

But Wallace’s smile faltered. “Er… why don’t we have a contest instead?”

“But then who would judge it? And I don’t know how to do a contest, I’ve never been in one before!”

“Well now you know how I feel!” Wallace pouted.

Steven stood his ground, and after a few heartbeats, Wallace slipped out of his resistance. “Okay, fine. We can have a pokemon battle. But if Aron hurts my precious Goldeen, I’ll… well I don’t know what I’ll do, but it won’t be good!”

With a fist pump and the point of a finger, Steven sent forth his precious Aron while Beldum levitated on the sidelines and watched. “Alright Aron, just like we practiced! Go!”

Aron leaped forward, tenacious cry crisp under the setting sun.

“Goldeen! Make me proud!” Wallace commanded his pokemon with much less spunk than Steven. If this was a contest, he knew that their enthusiasm would be swapped.

The battle commenced, the first move being made by Steven. A headbutt to Goldeen’s side, immediately countered with a bubble beam aimed at Aron’s steel forehead. Blow after blow, the battle carried on. It was as heated as a battle between two inexperienced eight-year-olds could possibly be, until a misfire left Steven drenched in water.

“Hey! You did that on purpose!” Steven shouted at Goldeen, feigning anger until his smile broke through his stern expression. “Aron!”

“Arar!” Aron called as he ran towards Wallace, headbutting his trainer’s friend into the smooth blue water.

Wallace was thrown, indignantly, off of the shore. Steven laughed mercilessly as Wallace’s hands waved frantically in search of something sold. Nothing was found before the boy toppled into the water, breaking the surface with a satisfying splash.

Steven doubled over laughing. When soaked turquoise hair showed itself above the rippling surface, Steven screeched, “You should have seen your face!”

The other boy treaded water discontentedly for a few seconds while Steven laughed, but wasn’t just going to take this transgression sitting down. While Steven was distracted by laughter, Wallace clammered out of the water just far enough to reach the other and yanked him down, pulling him into the water with him.

What little of the day was left carried on in this fashion, one boyish shenanigan after another until the sun had sunk out of sight. Too dark to play safely, the two new companions sat on the shore, soaking wet with their pokemon by their sides. Steven felt a pang of sadness when he thought about going back to Rustboro tomorrow, and leaving Wallace for who-knows-how-long.

“It’s getting dark, I really need to go inside before my mom gets worried,” Wallace began. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

Steven shook his head, his eyes cast down towards the water, where he could see the first few stars reflecting off of the tranquil waves.

“I don’t think so. Im going back home tomorrow, my dad’s here on a business trip an’ he only brought me along because he wanted me to see what it was like being all businessy and stuff. Remember what I told you earlier?”

“Which time?”

“About owning Devon when I grow up,” Steven sighed. Wallace nodded, and Steven, after a long day of playing, felt like he could confide in who he considered to be his best human friend at this point. “I’ve never told anyone this, but I don’t really care about all that business stuff. I just want to play with my pokemon and explore.” Steven flicked a pebble into the water.

Wallace shrugged, oblivious to Steven’s troubles. “Aren’t you too little to be learning about grown-up stuff anyways?”

“My dad says I’m smart for my age, and ‘they need to start young’. Whatever that means.”

Wallace shrugged again. “So does that mean this is goodbye?”

As if on cue, a woman appeared from a doorway a few houses away, calling Wallace’s name in the distance.

Steven stood up, immediately followed by the other young trainer. “Pssshh, not forever! My grandma lives in Mossdeep, so maybe when I go to visit her, I can visit you too!”

“Yeah, and I can show you all of the cool new pokemon I’ll have by then!”

“Right then, it’s a deal. Until next time, Wallace.”

“Seeya, Steven!” With that, Wallace galloped off to the house where his mother was waiting, and Steven could hear a woman’s voice quietly ask, “Who’s your friend?” To which Wallace replied “Oh, just some boy visiting Sootopolis,” His voice cut off when the door shut behind him, and Steven was left alone in the dark.

For the first time since this afternoon, he had the opportunity to admire the tranquility of Sootopolis. It was rather fitting, actually, that such a boy would be sown from such a place. Steven shook his head, and without another word, began to trek up to where he was playing earlier to retrieve his forgotten belongings. His pokemon safely tucked away in their pokeballs, he made it to the level he was on earlier and looked at the hole he and Aron had begun to dig.

Steven squinted at the handiwork, unsure what he was expecting to find beneath the surface of the Earth. There was something mysterious about the ground, almost like it was hiding something from him, and he was determined to unravel its secrets. This particular patch of rocky dirt, however, held no such secrets. Steven plucked his bag from the ground and dusted it off. He turned his back to the hole and casually made his way back to the temporary residency where he and his father were staying the night.

Wallace. Did he make an empty promise? Weave a fruitless pact? Or did he really intend on seeing the boy again some day? Steven liked to say that it was going to happen, but only time could really tell. Until that day, Steven swore to become the pokemon trainer he told Wallace he would become, and with that promise to _himself_ , he tightened his grip on his bag and quickened his pace. Steven couldn’t wait to tell his father.

.

As Steven grew older, he began to realize that his family wasn’t as picturesque as he thought it was. He didn’t understand at first. He didn’t understand why mom and dad were acting so coldly towards each other. He didn’t understand what the little things meant, like when mom would cross her arms defensively, or when dad would start an argument over something useless and trivial. He didn’t quite understand the meanings of the hissed _“not in front of Steven”_ s when a sensitive topic would surface, or why his mother words would come so sharply, or why his father’s tongue was so barbed.

He didn’t understand until one night in the fourth grade, when he tirelessly rolled over in his bed and the silver light filtering through the window painted his blue hair white. Sleep was lost on him. Steven pulled himself out of bed… it had been over a year since he had met Wallace in Sootopolis, and the boy was nothing but a distant memory of an amazing day. Steven hardly dwelled on the memory, as there was too much to think about in the present. But tonight, he recalled the boy. He faintly remembered the exchange of words shared between them, the words of hopeful youth spoken on a whim. Nostalgia pinged at his young heart, and Steven intended to stand by the promise he had made.

Unsure of what he wanted, Steven left his room, aimlessly wandering through the large manor in which he lived. Maybe he would go to the kitchen, get a little something to drink, and head back to his room.

As cautious feet padded onward, subtle, muffled voices began to draw his attention to the downstairs study. Tip-toeing down the spiral staircase, his hands glued to the mahogany railing, the voices grew louder and more crisp. It was easy to recognize the razor-sharp tone of a fight; between his parents, of course. He peeked his head into the room to see the back of his mother’s standing form, and his father in an armchair smoking a cigar as her razor words berated him.

“I’m his _mother_ , I think I know what’s best for him. And what you are doing to that poor boy is not what’s best for him!”

“Steven is strong,” his father retorted, “He’s a smart boy, and a good one too.”

_They’re talking about me,_ he realized, and an unfamiliar sinking feeling gripped his stomach. It was just like the feeling you get when you get called to the principal’s office, unsure of what you could have done wrong. Where they fighting, all because of him? Don’t they love each other? Don’t they love _him_? His small fingers gripped tightly to the doorframe.

“Why can’t you let him be a boy for once, let him grow up at his own pace!”

His mother’s tone was so harsh that Steven had to stop himself from flinching. On the edge of his awareness, Steven knew what the argument was about. But through the filter of boyhood, all he understood was his parents’ fighting words.

His father slammed his hand down on the end table with what looked like enough force to break it. “Dammit, woman!” There was only one thing scarier than when dad raised his voice, and that was in this moment, when he raised his voice against his wife. This time, Steven _did_ flinch, and tears began to well up in his eyes. _What did she do? What did_ I _do to make dad yell at momma like this?_

Mr. Stone stood up defensively. “If you think you―” He stopped, abruptly. His eyes caught Steven’s, his voice quieted, and his fist unclenched.

His mother’s surprised gaze followed her husband’s, and sure enough, she softened as well.

“Steven―” That was all she could eke out before Steven was gone. The young boy bolted up the stairs, not looking behind him as the tears broke away from his eyes. So this was why they were acting so differently lately. It was because of him. He ran into his room and locked the door behind him before collapsing, crying, onto his bed.

He couldn’t help the tears, it just made so much sense now- the underlying animosity, the anger, the hatred. It was because of him. He knew it… he heard them say it themselves. These past few months of this vexing displeasure, this enmity… he understood very clearly.

His mother never comes to his door to comfort him that night. He doesn’t know whether or not he wanted her to.

That night, Steven feels alone.

That night, Steven cries himself to sleep.

.

When Steven was ten years old, His mother finally explained to him what was going on.

She cupped his face as she explained. “Steven, honey, mommy is taking you to live with grandma in Mossdeep city. You remember grandma, right?”

Steven nodded. It had been a really long time since he saw her, but he did remember.

“Daddy won’t be coming with us,” she continued. This made the young boy a little nervous.

“What do you mean? Where is dad going?” His voice was panicked, yet his tone was level.

“Your father is going to stay here for a little while, while we go away. It will be kind of like a vacation.”

Confusion wracked Steven, but he had little say in the matter. His insides burned with uncertainty, but his outsides felt cold and numb. This was no vacation, he was old enough to understand that something was wrong. Over the last few years, he came to realize that the relationship between his mother and his father was falling apart, and divorce was on the horizon. Heck, it might already be finalized, for all he knew. After all, the child was usually the last to know when _divorce_ was in the cards.

He didn’t want to ask about it. Instead, he voiced his concerns to his pokemon on the boat ride to Mossdeep.

“I don’t like being kept in the dark,” he complained to Beldum, his trusty friend. That was one more thing Steven adored about Steel types. They were always so reliable, a strong force to lean on, and good listeners to boot. “I know mom is just trying to protect me, but it just makes the whole thing so much more confusing.” He furrowed his eyebrows, resting his chin on the second bar of the railing of the ship. His legs kicked over this side and tangled his body with the railing; he was just close enough to the water to feel the ocean spray lightly dusting his face. Steven was no stranger to water― no matter how earthily-inclined he was, he still resided on a tropical island.

Beldum mumbled a reply in a language that Steven will never fully know. He sighed, sort of understanding what Beldum meant.

“I don’t really want to ask, though.” His fingernail clicked impatiently against the steel railing. “I don’t want to sound nosy, or impatient, or stupid, like I don’t know what’s going on.” _Even though I don’t,_ he added silently to himself.

He had a vague idea. But nothing concrete to grasp onto, nothing solid. Nothing to grab onto as he fell further and further away from both of his parents, this lurking quandary isolating all three of them.

Beldum made a few metallic noises that Steven translated to be agreement.

Resting his cheek on the railing and gazing somewhat longingly into the dark water below, the troubled Steven discarded his thoughts. He decided it best to wait for normalcy to return. Some may call it bottling up, or procrastinating, but Steven preferred to call it patience.

.

A few months later, on his eleventh birthday, Steven Stone was granted independence. A steady relationship had begun to form between him and his parents, and now that he had freedom, he could visit his father whenever he pleased. But first, he was determined to explore every nook and cranny of the islands surrounding Mossdeep. After all, he last saw his father only a week ago.

Weeks of training on the beaches of Mossdeep had given Steven many things. First and foremost, he was given his Metang. Steven had been feeling it in his gut for days before it finally happened; he just knew that Beldum’s evolution was right around the corner. In the moment that it happened, Steven couldn’t imagine himself feeling as proud as that ever again.

Second, he was granted an extreme appreciation for the sea. The sea. The sloshing, violent, soothing, crazy mass of water that sustained island life. It was as much of a mystery to Steven as the ground that held buried treasure and precious gemstones, only a lot more dangerous in his eyes. However, there was only so much je ne sais quoi the ocean could offer. No matter how much he admired the strength and prowess of the ocean, he would always be a rock person at heart.

At the moment, he was speeding towards the endless horizon, gripping tightly to the steel arms of his Metang as the pokemon left a wake in the water behind him, despite the fact that they were hovering a good three feet off of the surface of the rippling ocean. He knew that Metang had the capability to reach up to 60 miles per hour, but young Steven was convinced that they were going even faster than that. His smile was wide as his blue eyes captured everything stretching before the two best friends. His hair whipped in the salty sea wind as his white knuckles dared not to let go of Metang’s arms. This was the adventure that he had been craving for years. This was the beginning of the best adventure of his life, he was sure of it. And well, he was not wrong.

.

Within a few days of his freedom, Steven discovered Shoal Cave. And in Shoal Cave, Steven discovered himself.

All his life Steven felt inclined to dig holes, and now before him was the biggest hole he had ever seen, and it was already dug for him. Hours upon hours were spent carefully upturning rocks in Shoal Cave. Hours transformed into days, and before he knew it , the days had transformed into weeks.

At eleven years old, the pampered heir to Devon Corporation was wallowing in the low tide of Shoal Cave. And it certainly paid off― in _his_ eyes, anyways. When Steven finally deemed the frosty cave 100% explored, his haul included several handfuls of beautiful gems, unique rocks, and dazzling crystals. He stored them in his room in Mossdeep, with his mother and grandmother serving as guard dogs. He would examine them carefully at a later date, maybe after he learned a thing or two about different kinds of rocks. Until then, nothing was keeping the amature geologist from seeking out more adventure, namely, more caves.

Except for maybe one thing.

It was a particularly sunny day months after discovering Shoal Cave, and instead of zipping across the waves like they usually did, Steven and Metang drifted lazily over the water, low enough for the boy’s hand to slice through the rippling sea. Metang seemed to also take advantage of the lazy day, its claws cutting through the water with just as much ease as its trainer’s. Steven shifted himself atop Metang’s hard, steel body with the unfortunate realization that he might be getting a little too big to fit comfortably on top of his pokemon for very much longer.

“Hey Metang,” he started, but was unable to finish due to the distant sound of screaming and splashing making itself known to the duo. They both noticed it at the same time, and they both pointed themselves at the source of the sound.

There it was, a figure slicing across the horizon like he and Metang are often known to do, only this figure was serpentine and blue, and its rider was screaming. It wasn’t a bad scream, Steven thought, but a joyous one. More like a whoop, if you will. This trainer and his pokemon, a Gyarados, seemed to be having a great deal of fun.

Steven took a familiar position atop Metang, and the pokemon zoomed off, leaving wakes in the water. Maybe they would be up for a pokemon battle!

As Steven drew closer, he realized that, at this rate, he was doomed to intersect the other trainer perpendicularly. But before the intersection came, both of their pokemon started slowing down, before finally stopping. The trainers both met each other’s eyes. The flash of green hair was what really caught Steven’s attention. Flashbacks flooded his mind, an entire day’s worth of memories running behind his eyes in a moment. His smile fell to a look of disbelief. Of course! The boy from the business trip to Sootopolis! Sootopolis was, after all, right across this waterway! He cursed himself for not thinking of Wallace even _once_ since he moved to Mossdeep.

“Wallace?” he called questioningly across the distance between them, not daring to close it until his speculations were confirmed. With a jolt, he realized that he still remembered this boy’s name after three eventful years. He remembered it like he had known it forever. He thought he could see eyes squinting on the other side before his call was returned.

“Steven?”

The reply almost made Steven feel a little hollow, but in the best of ways. They remained locked in place for more moments than either of them paid attention to, until Wallace finally broke the stalemate with a friendly wave and a toothy smile.

“Long time, no see, huh?”

Steven smiled. “Yeah.”


	2. Wishful Thinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two! Not bad, huh? Okay, so I know the pokedex entries make pokemon out to be freaking demigods, but I headcanon most of the pokedex entries as grossly inaccurate. You know them. You know what I’m talking about. With that said, I hope you enjoy this (not so thrilling) installment of my fic!

* * *

 

Later on, Steven would come to categorize his life into three segments: before Wallace, after Wallace, and after _after_ Wallace. The last few months of the tenth year of his life, he considered the beginning of "after Wallace".

Following their reunion on that fateful day in the middle of the sea, the two young seafaring trainers did everything together. Every free moment of Steven's was spent in Sootopolis (which was a lot of time considering the fact that he was homeschooled), and when Wallace wasn’t busy doing whatever it was that the little mariner did, he was out wreaking havoc with his best friend Steven.

Best friend. The phrase alone was enough havoc for the both of them. The phrase rung of two young boys having the times of their lives in the waters surrounding Mossdeep and Sootopolis, creating memories that they would carry for a life time. With every adventure, their area of influence would expand, and they would conquer one small island after another and expose themselves to all sorts of new pokemon.

However, as the young boys explored and discovered, they hardly learned a thing about each other. Sure, Steven knew that Wallace liked the water, and he thought that maybe Wallace knew that he had some sort of affinity for rocks… but beyond that, they really knew little about each other as people. Steven attributed the carelessness to their blissful adolescence, but even that was no excuse for ignoring each other’s personal lives completely. He procrastinated the matter until one day, when the duo was drifting off of the coast of Ever Grande, when Wallace got this smart idea.

“Steven,” he started, the light sea breeze ruffling his aquamarine locks of hair, “Lets go to Victory Road.”

Steven had entertained the notion before, but always considered it too silly of an idea to actually suggest. His eyes traced the sheer cliff face all the way from where the waves crashed against the rocky sides to the very top, where he could only imagine what was hiding beyond the edge.

He bit the inside of his cheek in careful contemplation. “How would we even get up there? Don’t you need waterfall to reach to top?”

“Steven, your Metang literally hovers in mid air.”

“It’s not like it can hover as far as it wants! Only a few feet of the ground, max, on a good day.”

Wallace accepted the point without pressing him further. His eyes shifted from the top of the cliff to the bottom. “Maybe we can find a low part, and I can stand on Gyarados’s head, and he can stretch me all the way up.”

Even the Gyarados found the idea to be farfetched. the serpent let out a low rumble and cast its rider a sideways glance as if to say, “You can’t be serious.”

“Wallace, that’s ridiculous.”

“Well, do you have any better ideas, Mr. smarty-pants?” Wallace mocked, his hands on his hips.

Steven’s eyes once again found themselves running up and down the sheer cliff face, his mind calculating the best approach to the impossible task.

“We could always just climb up.”  He kept his eyes on the cliff. Surely Wallace was giving him a look of disbelief, but he was confident they could do it. “It’ll be easy, we’ll find a low spot with a lot of flat places and just work our way up. Metang can spot us with its telekinesis.”

Steven finally let his eyes catch Wallace’s. The boy looked unsatisfied with the idea, and uneasy about scaling a cliff.

“What,” Steven scoffed, his lip tuning up in a childish smirk, “afraid to get a little dirty for once?”

“I am not!” That definitely struck a chord with the other young trainer. “Gyarados, let’s show Steven what we’re made of!”

It was easy to tell that Gyarados’s roar was a little uncertain, but he submitted to his trainer’s whims without resistance. Steven followed Wallace as he migrated to a spot that looked like it would be an easy enough climb, and watched as Gyarados pushed itself out of the water as far as it could to give Wallace the best chance of reaching the top. Steven huffed, following quickly behind.

“Alright Metang, let’s do this.”

Metang’s reply rang metallically as a pink energy engulfed Steven until he was coated in a translucent layer of the psychic energy. His body was raised slowly off of the Metang, and placed gently on a rocky ledge. The energy did not disappear as his small hands gripped onto the rocks of the cliff.

The feeling of his hands against the earthy substance was comfortingly familiar. As if he were in his natural habitat, Steven began to ascend the cliff face like he was born to do it, Metang’s psychic energy spotting him every step of the way. Grip. Heave. He pulled himself onto the ledge where Wallace was waiting.

Well, waiting was one word for it. In reality, the boy was plastered to the rock face, afraid to move his body an inch. Steven let out a breath of short laughter at the sight, despite the fact that his friend was very obviously screaming internally.

“Don’t laugh!” He protested shakily, “I’ve never done anything like this before!”

Steven chuckled regardless, and extended a hand to his fearful friend. “Here, take my hand.”

“Are you crazy? I’ll have to let go to do that!”

“Just trust me.” Wallace stared bitterly into Steven’s eyes for a good four seconds before he finally conceded. His hand found Steven’s and the pink energy began to spread to the other boy’s body.

“Wow,” Wallace wondered, eyes wide as his arms began to float. “I feel so light.”

“Yeah, but don’t take advantage of it. Metang isn’t made of this stuff.”

Wallace nodded. Steven cast his eyes to where the water met the land, and his fast was washed with a gentle spray. Metang’s steel claws were dug into the bluff only a few feet below them, and it let out a metal sound when it noticed its trainer watching it. Beyond Metang, Gyarados still poked out of the water.

“Now follow me,” He cast his attention back on the task at hand, his fingers finding another ledge to grab onto. Ahead of them was another good thirty feet of rock, but for Steven it was nothing. For Wallace, however, the task would be daunting. As the duo approached a rather flat spot, Steven plopped himself down with his legs kicking over the edge. The view behind him made his stomach jolt in the best of ways.

Right next to him, Wallace breathlessly heaved himself into place next to Steven. Four feet below, Metang stuck it’s claws into the rock. Forty feet below, Gyarados swam in impatient circles. But for miles in front of them, countless islands dotted restless waters. To the north-west, he could make out the white rock that encased the city of Sootopolis just sticking the horizon like a spear.

“Wow,” Wallace panted, “there’s,” huff, “so much beauty here.”

“I know, isn’t it amazing?”

“It’s breathtaking.”

“C’mon we’re not even at the top yet.” Steven stood up, the few seconds of rest were enough for him. He grabbed Wallace to hurry him along, but the other just waved him off.

“Hold on Steven, just give me a minute!” Wallace fell silent as his eyes fell back on the beauty before the two of them. Of course he would become transfixed by such a scene, this was Wallace, after all. Steven yielded to the request, similarly transfixed, not on the sea or the islands or even the rocks before him, but on Wallace. He looked excited, yet peaceful; his eyes sparkled as they explored the breathtaking scene.

“No where in the world could have a view like this.” Wallace smiled gently, his breathing beginning to grow steady from all of this sitting down. The wind gently whipped the turquoise locks of hair that framed his face, the aesthetic of a moment trapped in time creating a sense of harmony between Steven and Wallace.

“No where but the top of this cliff,” he retorted casually.

“That’s not what I mean.”

Steven didn’t press further. He understood the meaning of Wallace’s words, and chose not to delve deeper into the topic. Instead, Steven coveted his stoic gaze to the sea. As his eyes roamed the horizon, his imagination followed suit; it was nearly impossible not to let his thoughts wander as he beheld everything the light touched. How he wished he could fly, just him, without the aid of a pokemon. If only he could feel what a Skarmory felt. Or a Murkrow, or a Pelipper. If only he could leap from the edge of the cliff, only to feel himself suspended in the air as high as he wanted. It really was a world away from the shores of Mossdeep, or even Sootopolis. Maybe he and Wallace should climb to the top of the crater that encased that city… that would certainly be a worthwhile adventure.

“C’mon Wallace, let’s go.” After what must have been ten minutes of staring silently, Steven finally nudged his sitting companion with the toe of his shoe. As much as he hated breaking up the landscape, he also had to admit that they had to keep going. If they stuck around on this ledge for any longer, they would be burning precious daylight.

Wallace nodded, slowly creeping back into reality. “Yeah, alright.” He scurried to stand, and they resumed their climb.

It was mid-afternoon when they finally reached the top. It was Steven who’s eyes broke the edge first, followed eventually by a struggling Wallace. At the top of the cliff, ten-year-old Steven couldn’t help but gasp in wonderment at what he saw. Sure, the view of the ocean extending for miles was something, but this… this was magnificent. The landscape was a stunning green, the windswept  grass the most beautiful he had ever seen. Patches of pink and violet dotted the fields, interrupted by only terraces of rock and a solitary Pokemon Center. At the far end of the area, rocky escarpments sprung from the grassy meadows and housed what Steven knew as victory road. There were lightly colored paths that led to the entrance, a large mouth that swallowed the light menacingly. Steven knew exactly what was hiding in the cavern, and knew even more about what was lying beyond. The Elite four. Hoenn’s most seasoned trainers and the most expert battlers that the Pokemon Association could produce. One day he would climb their ranks like he climbed the crags of EverGrande City… that was a fact.

Wallace heaved himself onto the grassy ledge and rolled onto his back, his arms and legs spread like a Staryu. “I’m never using my arms again,” he moaned.

Steven couldn’t reply. There was too much to look at.

“It’s pretty up here,” Wallace remarked, finally getting his footing. He scurried to his feet and dusted his hands off on each other. “But my clothes are a mess for it.”

All Steven could do was nod his head in agreement. ‘Pretty’ was an understatement. This place was gorgeous.

"Your clothes look fine," he noted, without even turning his head to look at them. Only a few dozen yards in front of him was the largest cave in Hoenn. Steven wasn't in the business of wasting any time.

The wind wasn’t as strong here as it was on the cliff face, so Steven’s hair minded it’s own business for once as he strode confidently forward. Metang floated closely behind him, finally rearing its metal head over the top of the cliff.

"Huh? Hey, Steven, wait up!" Wallace galloped after him. "What's the hurry?"

"I just really want to go explore that cave. It's the biggest one in Hoenn you know."

Steven could just hear him grumble,"It's always about caves with you, isn't it?" But the statement was quickly replaced with, "It can't wait a few seconds?" Wallace twisted his head to look behind him at the ocean before returning his focus to Steven.

“Not to be rude or anything,” Steven started, timid smile on his lips when his eyes found Wallace’s, “but we just spent a good ten minutes staring at the Ocean.”

Wallace shrugged grantingly. “You got me there.” He caught up to Steven, now walking side-by-side with him. They fell silent for a few heartbeats, and the only sound that interrupted the tranquility was the sound of the wind whispering softly as it caressed each blade of supple grass.

“Wow,” Wallace wondered, “these are the pastures that everyone's always talking about. This is the other side.”

“Yeah, it really is.” Steven’s arms swung by his side. He kept his eyes on the mouth of the cave, and it was only a few moments before he was finally standing within spitting distance of the cold, unchanging rock. He peered into the depths, cautiously. It was only then that it crossed his mind how much trouble they could get in for hanging around here without even a singly gym badge.

Steven lurched forward to touch his hand to the precipice… it felt rough and dusty, and as he withdrew his fingers, Steven felt the dirt between his fingers. _Must be limestone,_ he deduced.

The stagnant air wafted from within the cavern. The scent was musty and earthy, but crisp. Steven inhaled deeply through his nose, getting a good whiff of a familiar smell.

“So? Are we gonna go in, or are we going to stand around out here all day?”

For the first time today, Steven began to have reservations about this excursion. As he looked into the cave, he realized that this just wasn’t the time. Like… we was not yet worthy. Sprawled out in front of him was the adventure of a lifetime, and he wasn’t ready to take it. He stepped back.

“Actually, Wallace, I don’t think we should.” Steven’s voice was quiet, his tone soft.

“We came all this way, I even tarnished my beautiful sailor outfit, and all so you could chicken out at the very end?” Wallace looked borderline offended. It made Steven want to snicker.

“No, it’s not that. It just doesn’t feel right,that’s all.” How sentimental that sounded. “We could climb even higher if you still want to seize the day.”

The gears in Wallace’s mind turned. “Mm.. okay. But only because by then, we’d probably be the highest anyone in Hoenn has ever been. Unless you live in the volcano, that is.”

“Or have a pokemon that can fly,” Steven contributed, grinning at the idea of reaching the peak of the hill that encased Victory Road.

“Yeah, or that.”

Fortunately, the rest of the way was more of a slope than an incline, so it was a fairly easy hike to the top. Halfway up, Wallace took Steven’s typical spot atop Metang, who had little problem keeping balance among the rocks.

“I wish we’d brought some snacks. And some water. I’m parched. And my arms and legs feel like they might fall off. Jelly, I tell you. Why don’t we ever learn from these kinda things?” Wallace blabbed, laying on his back with his head and legs drooping over the side of Metang, and his hands neatly folded on his chest.

“I don’t know.”

“And look at this,” Wallace held his arms in the air in front of him, in order to inspect his hands. “I have more dirt under my fingernails than there are Zigzagoons in Hoenn. Why do we keep going on adventures if we end up bringing all of the dirt home with us?” Metang had begun to rotate lazily in the air.

“Mhmm,” Steven agreed, concentrating more on his footing than the conversation. He supposed he was a little hungry and/or thirsty too… he hadn’t really thought about it a whole lot.

“I guess we couldn’t have known it was going to be a big day… you know, where we did something big. I mean, I would say this was pretty big, wouldn’t you?” Wallace sat up on Metang, urging the spinning pokemon to stabilize.

Steven only nodded his reply.

“Steven, what’s the biggest adventure you’ve ever been on?”

Now that was a pretty good question. Nothing particularly large was coming to mind… in fact, there was only one obvious answer that really stuck out at him. “I feel like I haven’t been on my biggest adventure yet.”

Oh, how he would later come to realize verity of that statement.

“Philosophical, aren’t we now?”

“What about you?” He asked with genuine curiosity, “What’s the biggest adventure _you’ve_ ever been on?” He lost Wallace while the turquoise-haired trainer delved into his memories.

After a few quiet moments, “I think I feel the same way. Although... this one is pretty up there in bigness.”

“Yeah,” Steven smiled haphazardly, “I suppose it is.”

The day was beginning to wind down when they reached the highest point. The sun was on the decline by the time Metang dumped Wallace unceremoniously onto the rocky ground at the peak, making the young boy squawk. The action made Steven snicker. From the top of the hill, miles upon miles of ocean was visible to the West, but to the East, Steven and Wallace just barely make out the mainland on the horizon. Steven watched as Wallace stared, once again transfixed, on everything sprawled out and at their scrutiny.

“What an amazing region we live in,” Wallace said dreamily, to which Steven nodded his head in agreement. “Makes you wonder what other regions have to offer, doesn’t it?”

“You don’t even know what _this_ region has to offer! Have you ever even been to the mainland?”

Wallace shook his head. The two were sitting on the ground facing east, Wallace sitting criss-cross and Steven resting his weight on his arms, which were keeping him up from behind. “No. We should go together.”

Steven huffed. That sounded like a great idea. Maybe he could bring Wallace with him next time he visited his dad. “Yeah, we should.”

“While we’re there, I can finally be a coordinator in a contest.” Steven did recall that little dream of Wallace’s from when they were six, but this was the first time the other boy had brought it up since then. Steven realized that before now, he and Wallace had never really _actually_ talked. “And I suppose you want to take on the gym leaders?”

With the mention of his own goal, Steven smiled. “Yeah,” he said confidently, “who wouldn’t?”

“Yeah, even I want to take the challenge, just to see if I can. Maybe one day I’ll wind up here on Victory Road.”

“I know _I_ will,” Steven remarked. “In fact, I’m going to be the champion of Hoenn.”

Wallace’s gaze drifted to Steven. “You sound very sure of yourself.”

“That’s because I am. Why wouldn’t I be? I’m a strong trainer… I have Metang already, so I won’t even be starting my journey from scratch. Aron will be evolving any day now, I’m just sure of it. That’s two strong pokemon already… what’s four more?”

“Hmph, yeah, I guess you’re right. But that would mean that I sorta have a head start too, since I already have a Goldeen and a Gyarados.”

“Heh, so you do. Where did you get that thing anyways? Gyarados, I mean.”

Wallace scoffed. “He is not a _thing_ , he’s a living, breathing pokemon. And I got him when I fished him right out of the water in Sootopolis City.” Wallace was bearing a smug look if Steven had ever seen one.

However, Steven was taken a little aback. “A Gyarados? In Sootopolis? That can’t happen very often,” he remarked.

“It doesn’t! Fortunately, I spend a lot of my time fishing.”

“And why is that?”

Wallace shrugged. “I dunno… I guess I just like the thrill of reeling in a catch. It could be anything… that’s the thing with water, you never know what could be hiding under the surface until you’re willing to fish it out, literally. It’s like a mystery, and I just want to unravel it.”

For some reason, Steven found that statement strangely relatable. “Yeah, it’s that same thing for me… but,” he paused, unsure of how to come out a huge nerd. “but for rocks.”

Wallace crinkled his nose. “What’s so mysterious about rocks?”

What a question. Steven had no direct way to answer it… but he’ll be damned if he didn’t have _anything_ to say about it! “It’s not always the rocks that are mysterious. It’s caves, its the dirt, its everything thats hidden by all of this hard stuff.” He stomped his foot down onto the limestone. “Beneath us is a massive cave system, with endless nooks and crannies that have never even been seen before. And the rocks inside… the crystals, the minerals, gypsum, calcite, naturally forming edges that are completely flat!” He didn’t realize how worked up he was getting until Wallace stopped him.

“Okay I get it,” he said, smiling at Steven’s sheer happiness as he got to talk about rocks. “you like rocks.”

“Not to mention the rare stones that have enough power alone to trigger pokemon evolutions!”

“Okay okay okay!” Wallace was giggling. “You don’t have to be such a loser about it,” he teased.

Steven sighed, calming himself. “Yeah, I know. I just get excited about this kind of thing.”

“I can tell.”

They settled into a comfortable silence. The only sounds were those of the wind, the waves, and the occasional familiar and faraway squawk of a wingull. Two friends with the world at their fingertips. Steven was suddenly filled with a fluffy feeling of cozy-togetherness, and he silently wished that he could have this moment forever.

“Wallace?” He broke the pleasant silence.

“Yeah Steven?”

“I want to go on a pokemon adventure.”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, almost a chuckle, “me too.” He was surely recalling their prior conversation.

“Let’s go together.” Steven’s metalic blue eyes were earnest as he looked over at his best friend.

“Yeah, let’s do it.” Wallace paused, his eye’s meeting Steven’s. “Together.”

.

Unfortunately an eternity in this moment was not meant to be. The setting sun from the top of the bluff was one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen, but also one of the most disappointing. It was time to get going. It would definitely be dark by the time they got home, safe in their respective beds.

“How are we supposed to get down from here? It’s getting dark now, the hike down will probably kill us.”

Steven smiled widely. He’d been in this situation enough times to make the answer obvious. However, this time he was a lot higher up. Hopefully it would work the same.

He glanced between Wallace and Metang, who was stirring quietly, preparing for the descent. “Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, his expression sly, “We’re going to ride Metang!”

“But I thought you said he couldn’t carry the both of us?”

Steven felt like correcting Wallace’s use of gendered pronouns for his genderless pokemon, but he ignored it for now. “Well that was up a cliff face. Going down is completely different.”

Wallace still looked uneasy, but willing to try anything once. Before he could protest further, Steven heaved himself onto the top of his pokemon, the feeling quite familiar as he had done it a million times. “Hop on!” he said excitedly.

With only a tentative glance, Wallace heaved himself onto Metang. It was tight squeeze for the both of them, but Metang remained steady in place. Almost scarily steady, as if the pokemon was on a separate plane of reality, unaffected but the physical realities of this world.

“Okay, hang on really tight. And I mean _really_ tight.” Steven anchored his hands around the skinny parts of Metang’s arms, his knuckles white from the pressure. Wallace was wary at first, avoiding touching the other boy as much as he could. When they started moving, Wallace would get the idea.

Metang lurched forward and Wallace let out a yip of surprise. His arms immediately reached to cling to Steven, the possibility of him falling off all too likely. Metang began to drop in altitude as the pokemon used its magnetism to suspend itself off of the ground. It picked up speed as it flew downwards, and Steven hunkered closer to the metal to cut down on the wind resistance as Wallace wrapped his arms tighter and tighter around his middle. There was always the possibility of catching the wind and being thrown off… he didn’t want that to happen, so he plastered himself as far down as he could with Wallace still clinging to him for dear life.

Metang only gained more and more speed as he flew towards Ever Grande City. Wallace began to wine in protest when it appeared that they might slam into the ground, but metang made the transition to flat land smoothly and with no intention of slowing down. The landscape wisped by them in a flash as they rocketed off of the hill, and Wallace began to scream when they rocketed right over the bluff that they had scaled only hours ago.

Steven marveled as Wallace screamed, his eyes probably welded tightly shut. They were suspended, gliding gently through the air for a solid two heartbeats. Wallace ceased his yelling, and Steven could imagine the other boy peeking out from behind his eyelids. Steven observed that it seemed to be only the three of them and the sunset, alone together in the sky. The oranges and yellows and pinks melded perfectly with the sea… if it were not for the land that broke up the scene, it might have been impossible to identify where the sky ended and the sea began.

However, it only lasted for so long, and they began to drop again. Steven guessed it could have been about a 70-foot drop to the sea. As they began to lose altitude once again, Wallace picked up his screaming again as he could feel them lifting off of the safe surface of Metang. Steven’s sure grip was all that anchored the two of them to the pokemon. They only dropped for a few seconds before slowing and eventually skidding against the surface of the sea like a skipping stone as they continued to rocket towards home.

Steven could feel the decreasing momentum and the decreasing pressure of the shaking arms around his waist. When they finally slowed to a stop, Wallace looked so shocked and frazzled that he might actually fall off of Metang. Steven twisted his body and held onto his friend, just to be safe.

“That was…” He started.

“Yeah?” Steven asked impatiently.

“There are no words to describe how awesome that was!” Wallace slowly came to.

“Right!?”

At that moment, an indifferent Gyarados swam into the radius of relevancy. Maybe it was worried. Steven couldn’t really tell.

“But really, get me off of this death trap. That was terrifying.”

“Don’t say you wouldn’t do it again.”

“I wouldn’t!”

“Liar.”

Wallace mounted his own pokemon just as the sun began to sink completely out of sight.

“We better hurry home. If it gets too dark we might get lost.” Steven was pretty confident his pokemon knew where it was going, but he liked to know too.

“Pft, yeah, speak for yourself!” Wallace boasted confidently.

Steven couldn’t help but smile at the comment.

For a few minutes, they were able to surf together on their way home. By the time they were forced to part ways, however, the sun had disappeared completely and it was terrifyingly dark. Wallace and Steven floated on the water together, shrugging their goodbyes in the dim silver light of the moon. Steven watched as Wallace parted to the west. His heart ached… he hated to see his friend go. His body swiveled to the north-east, towards Mossdeep.

His eyes focused on his pokemon as it zoomed over the sea. His silver-blue hair flapped wildly in front of his eyes, but he could still see the sheen of Metang’s azure surface in the light of the moon. His soft, childish, fingertips dared to free themselves of the grip he held as he brushed them over the steel; endlessly in wonder of the texture. A sigh escaped the young boys lips. Despite the company of Metang, Steven felt loneliness seize his heart.

* * *

_Reviews are much appreciated._


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